and who as
we have said sat apart at the end of the table, preserved an attitude
conformable to their respective characters. The younger of the two had
instinctively put his hand to his side, as if to seek an absent weapon,
and had risen with a spring, as if to rush at the masked man's throat,
in which purpose he had certainly not failed had he been alone; but
the elder, who seemed to possess not only the habit but the right of
command, contented himself by regrasping his coat, and saying, in an
imperious, almost harsh tone: "Sit down, Roland!" And the young man had
resumed his seat.

But one of the guests had remained, in appearance at least, the most
impassible during this scene. He was a man between thirty-three and
thirty-four years of age, with blond hair, red beard, a calm, handsome
face, with large blue eyes, a fair skin, refined and intelligent lips,
and very tall, whose foreign accent betrayed one born in that island of
which the government was at that time waging bitter war against France.
As far as could be judged by the few words which had escaped him, he
spoke the French language with rare purity, despite the accent we have
just mentioned. At the first word he uttered, in which that English
accent revealed itself, the elder of the two travellers started. Turning
to his companion, he asked with a glance, to which the other seemed
accustomed, how it was that an Englishman should be in France when the
uncompromising war between the two nations had naturally exiled all
Englishmen from France, as it had all Frenchmen from England. No doubt
the explanation seemed impossible to Roland, for he had replied with his
eyes, and a shrug of the shoulders: "I find it quite as extraordinary
as you; but if you, mathematician as you are, can't solve the problem,
don't ask me!"

It was evident to the two young men that the fair man with the
Anglo-Saxon accent was the traveller whose comfortable carriage awaited
him harnessed in the courtyard, and that this traveller hailed from
London, or, at least, from some part of Great Britain.

As to his remarks, they, as we have stated, were infrequent, so laconic,
in reality, that they were mere exclamations rather than speech. But
each time an explanation had been asked concerning the state of France,
the Englishman openly drew out a note-book and requested those about
him, the wine merchant, the abbe, or the young noble to repeat their
remarks; to which each had complied with an